Page 45 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

Inside the bathroom, the quiet click of the door behind me seemed louder than it should. I released a breath and sagged against the countertop, pressing my hands flat against the cool marble surface. My heart hadn’t stopped doing high jumps since dinner. One look from him, one soft smile, one gentle kiss, and I was undone—and he didn’t even seem to know the power he had over me.

For now, though, I let myself retreat into the rhythm of brushing my teeth, each stroke of the toothbrush giving me something to focus on. But even that did nothing to quiet the rapid-fire thoughts swirling through my head. I thought about the way his deep laugh seemed to vibrate in my chest, about how the pad of his thumb had stroked over the back of my hand during dinner like it was second nature to him. I thought about the heat in his eyes whenever they landed on me, and how it couldn’t be pretend. It had to be something more.

I carefully removed my dress and secured it on a hanger. I skimmed the soft fabric, and a small, crooked smile teased across my mouth. He’d insisted on buying it for me, and Icouldn’t shake the memory of him standing outside the changing room earlier, his dark eyes consuming me in a way that sent my thoughts spinning. Something had shifted between us then, but neither of us had said it out loud.

I slipped into a soft tank top and sleep shorts that hit just high enough on my thighs to make me mildly self-conscious. Staring into the mirror, I loosened the arrangement I’d made with my hair earlier and tugged my brush through it, smoothing out the curls. My reflection smiled back at me in the mirror, and I wasn’t sure if it was the way the pink still flushed my cheeks or the way my chest felt lighter than air, but the realization hit me.

I couldn’t wait to see where this would take us next.

With flutters zipping through my belly, I stepped out of the bathroom, catching sight of him framed by the balcony light. “The bathroom’s free,” I called out. As I crossed the hall to hang my dress in the closet, he glanced over his shoulder, his brows quirked.

The hallway narrowed as he moved toward me, and when he passed, his hand drifted down my spine. It was faint, only a gentle trace of his fingers, but the gesture burned through me like it was the most deliberate touch in the world. My breath caught, but before I could react, he was gone, disappearing into the bathroom and leaving me standing outside, my fingertips pressed against the warm fabric of my dress.

I shut the closet door and walked toward the bed but then stopped in my tracks. What now? Should I lie down and wait for him there? Crawl under the covers and pretend I wasn’t overthinking everything?

He might think me slipping into bed was too forward. The last thing I wanted to do was make him uncomfortable, not when things between us felt delicate, too easy to break.

Decision made, I stepped onto the balcony. The night wrapped around me like the softest blanket, warm and stickyand filled with the rustle of palm leaves swaying in the breeze and the faint, briny tang of the ocean. Stars winked out against the clouds, tiny promises scattered across a dark sky, while bats swooped through the moonlight.

It was peaceful here. The kind of quiet that stretched and soothed until any knot unraveled on its own. My eyelids slid shut as the wind lifted the ends of my hair. I didn’t know how it was possible to feel completely at home beside someone I’d just met a few days ago. But with Ostor nearby, nothing else seemed to matter.

The sound of footsteps coming up behind me brought me to attention. His presence filled the small space as he joined me, his strong hand brushing the curve of my shoulder.

His face seemed carved by the moonlight, softened only by his tusks and the quiet gaze of his eyes. There was so much to him. He was strength and gentleness wrapped together in a way I didn’t understand yet. But I wanted to, more than anything.

I turned to face him. For once, his towering height didn’t feel intimidating. My awkwardness melted beneath his warm gaze. Whatever barriers had been built between us before, they crumbled under his quiet confidence.

He cupped my cheek, his palm rough. His thumb brushed across my lips, sending a sharp pang of longing through me. Heat coiled through my belly and shot lower.

“You're beautiful, Rosey,” he said. “I don't feel worthy.”

“Worthy of what?”

“Whatever you might offer.”

“What would you like me to offer?”

“You,” he groaned. “Only you.”

My throat tight, I kissed his palm. “I'm here for you, Ostor. I'm not going anywhere.”

With a muffled growl, he tilted his head, leaning forward to brush his lips against mine. Our kiss deepened, the pressuregrowing as his other hand circled my waist, pulling me against his hard body.

His fingers grazed beneath my breast, and my moan ripped out.

He lifted his head, staring down at me. His dark eyes drifted down to where his hand hovered on my breast, and the look he gave me when he glanced back up was filled with such intense longing, my entire chest spasmed.

“I want you,” I said. The words left me in a breathless rush. “All of you.”

His gaze locked on mine, and his fingers trembled against my chest. When he nodded, his voice came out low and rough. “You already have me.”

“Ostor.” I leaned into him.

He lifted me, and I curled my legs partway around his chest.

He kissed me again, harder this time, as he carried me into the bedroom.

Chapter 18

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